


Finding Room 502

by Felurian1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Dean Winchester, Deleted Scenes, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Flash Fic, Gen, Stanford Student Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22878460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felurian1/pseuds/Felurian1
Summary: A deleted scene from the Pilot episode - Dean tries to find Sammy, but a Stanford douchebag has other ideas
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	Finding Room 502

It was dark when the Impala pulled up outside the student halls at Stanford. The engine growled as Dean eased off the brakes and settled his baby in for a few hours, making sure nothing would disturb her. As he walked towards the entrance, he looked back over his shoulder, just one final check, then pulled the double doors open and strode in.

“Alright, Room 502, cmon….”, Dean muttered to himself, casting his eyes around for any signs to direct him. The halls were dipped in shadow, streetlights spilling in to leave yellow pockets beside the windows, but little else. With a sigh, Dean picked a direction, and walked.

A few moments later, he picked again, cursing under his breath as he crossed the foyer for the second time that night. And then a third. After doubling back on himself, walking in circles a few times, and accidentally opening the janitor’s closet, Dean was about ready to just yell for Sammy and be done with it, when a door opened down the hallway.

Light spilled out, and the muddled sounds of what was clearly the end of a party filled the hallway. A tall figure backed out of the room, and Dean made a beeline for him - any port in a storm, right?

“And then I will be back! With more beers baby!”, the dude yelled, turning and walking straight into Dean with a thud.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

“You walked into me, dude”, Dean replied, trying to keep his frustration out of his voice. The guy - clearly a jock judging by the way he was wearing a baseball jersey to a party - took a pace back and stood there swaying, eyes running Dean over slowly.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you around before….”, he slurred, shoulders squaring slightly.

“I guess not”

“You look a bit beat up to be a student, know what I’m sayin?”. The jock curled his lip mockingly, eyes catching on Dean’s jacket, his muddy boots, his hair.

Dean counted to five in his head, trying to resist the urge to shove this loser against the wall and get what he wanted that way.

“No,” he replied, “Now would you point me to Room 502, and I’ll get outta your way”

The jock didn’t seem to have heard Dean, his eyes narrowing as he tried to work something out.

“What’s your major? Huh? Bet you’re just a delivery guy, am I right?”. As he spoke, the jock poked a finger in Dean’s face, very almost causing himself a broken wrist before Dean managed to get his reactions under control.

Dean took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

“If I tell you my major, will you tell me where 502 is?”, Dean said slowly.

The jock nodded.

“Its anthropology, okay?”

“You’re full of crap! No way a guy like you does that”, the jock said, outrage in his voice.

“Yup. Folklore of the native Americans”. Dean tried to keep his tone calm, despite the growing exasperation he was feeling with this manchild in front of him.

The jock grinned, like he thought he’d caught Dean in a lie.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s a chip… choop…. Chupa…”

“Chupacabra?”, Dean interrupted, “Its a legendary creature that drinks goat blood, amongst other things. Spines, big teeth, the usual.”

The jock gaped at him, and Dean took the opportunity to step up and close to him, letting that little bit of height he had on the guy really sink in.

“Yeah, I read my Radford. Now show me 502, or I’ll break your frickin arm, got it?”

The jock swallowed loudly, nodding as he backed himself against the wall. His voice suddenly seemed a few octaves higher when he stuttered out his reply.

“Up the staircase, third corridor down!”

Dean stepped back, and smiled politely. The smile was all teeth.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He moved to the side, and waved to let the jock pass. The guy slipped along the wall, keeping as wide a gap as he could between the two of them, and then took off at a run, leaving Dean behind in the gloom.

“Frickin amateurs”, Dean muttered, shaking his head. He took a few paces towards the staircase, then paused and turned back down the corridor. The party door still stood ajar, and he poked his head through.

“Ladies. Don’t mind if I do”.

When Dean turned back to the empty hallway, it was with a beer clutched in his hand, and a self-satisfied look on his face. He took a swig, licked his lips, and then made for the stairs. He had a brother to find, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a flash fic on twitter to keep someone awake on a drive!  
> https://twitter.com/i/events/1231886701846462464


End file.
